


Hold on

by SINnamon_Pie



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: I may add more chapters, May or may not be angsty in later chapters, Reader has no specific gender, Reader is sick, Reader is twisted, unnamed sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-28 12:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12606980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SINnamon_Pie/pseuds/SINnamon_Pie
Summary: They were sick. Very sick. But they held on for one special monster. And they'll keep holding on, for as long as they can. No matter how much it hurt them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A short little thing I wrote during class XD No real 'meaning' behind it, I was just bored. There is a CHANCE I'll make more to this, BUT it'll all just be really sad shit XD

I curled up to his sleeping chest, the steady rise and fall of his ribs instantly soothing me. I layed my head upon his sternum and thought. I thought about all the moments we spent together, every second that he was able to change my ending life for the better.

“She’s not going to survive.”  
“Two months at the most.”  
“Just prepare yourself for the worst.”

That’s what they told my parents. That’s what they told him. I wasn’t going to live. My body was just going to give out. I would become sickly, weak, broken. But here I am. Six months later. Wrapped in his arms with his phalanges running through my newly grown hair, as short as it was I wouldn’t even call it hair. Just stubble. I couldn’t help but smile. I made it. No, I hadn’t beaten my sickness, but I had made it farther than expected. And I was determined to keep moving forward. 

The treatments drained everything from me. The treatments are what stole away my life. It took my form. It took my hair. It took my reason to keep pushing forward. I fell into a world of depression that, not matter where I turned, just kept getting darker, surrounding me till I couldn’t see. I tried finding outlets, just the littlest bit of light that could guide me. I tried finding hobbies. I tried doing things I loved. I tried everything. From dating to painting. From singing to writing out my feelings on paper. From video games to dance. But I never changed, mentally, at least. I just got thinner. Fragile. Disgusting. No one would ever see who I was before my sickness. I once had shiny, bouncy hair that I loved to run my fingers through. I remember delicately running my fingers over my pale scalp one day, tears flooding my eyes. I once had fully, pink cheeks that rounded my face when I smiled. I remember trailing my fingers over the sunken spaces of my face that once held a little bit of fat. I once could look at myself in the mirror without crying. And now that’s all I can remember

That’s what I thought, at least. I ended up getting amputated. My leg. It’s strange living without your limbs, more than you’ll ever imagine. I’ll feel an itch and I’d reach down to scratch it, only to meet nothing. Just air and emptiness. It was a constant reminder. 

Even with that amputation, I had very little chance of going off scot free for the rest of my life. 

“It’s going to come back.”  
“Please, don’t celebrate yet. This may not be over.”  
“She’s clear, for now.”

That’s what they told my parents. That’s what they told him. But here I am. Six goddamn months of fighting and holding tight. Six fucking months of hoping and begging to the godless skies. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t some powerful being helping me from above. I was just lucky. But it made me happy to think otherwise.

Sleeping with him was amazing. Not like what you’d think. Actually sleeping, wrapped up in the blankets, being snuggled in his arms. I lived for those moments. I looked forward to the end of the day when I could rest in his arms. Of course, I had to have a midday nap as well, but he would be at work at that time, leaving me alone.

Monsters are a funny thing, you know. Once feared by humans and sealed away, only to one day escape and become our greatest allies. Sure, there were the usual racists, but they disappeared with time. Monsters where cherished, loved, and even sexualized, which was unsurprising. Interracial relationships were becoming more and more common. I was in one.

I got the greatest monster of all. One of the only two skeletons in the Underground. Short, stocky, surprisingly smart and funny as hell. Sans was his name. He didn’t seem like it when we met one day at the hospital I frequented, but he’s quite the gentlemonster. He cared more than he let on. Our paths often crossed. Very often, in fact. Short hellos in the hallway became conversations which turned into actual visits. Once a week, every other day, then every day at 2pm exactly, he would stop by my room to check on me, bringing me a snack. He had offer to push my wheelchair when I got too weak to walk. He told me stories of his previous life, his struggles in the world below the mountain, and I told him of mine, when I was a happy, thriving child with pure thoughts who believed nothing wrong would ever happen to me. It wasn’t long before gentle bumps and nudges of our shoulders were exchanged, holding hands, swift kisses on the cheek, and, eventually, something more passionate. I cried the day he asked me to be his, for as long as I was able to hold on. I didn’t need to think twice.

And now here I lay with him, my remaining leg wrapped around his hip, pulling his boney frame cover against me. I chuckle at the thought that I once looked exactly like him. He kisses my forehead, the lights of his eyes returning as he woke from sleep. “Good mornin’, sweetness…” He whispered, his ever smiling teeth pressed against my skin, his way of kissing me. “Morning, Sansy…” I said back softly, nuzzling my nose against the vertebrae of his neck bones. He let out a small chuckle, “You know I’m ticklish there.” “Why do you think I do it?” I smiled, softly kissing the bone, going as far as softly sucking on it. I felt his body tense up a bit before relaxing again, a deep purr-like rumble echoing through his ribs, “Mmm…” His hands found their way onto my hips, pulling me even closer. 

“I love you…”

That’s what he told me.


	2. Wouldn’t Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap is short than the last but I’m HOPING to post a third chapter today!^^

That’s what he told me, at least. Maybe he did feel love for me at one point in time. But it didn’t last. I knew I couldn’t offer him what most could. I didn’t have the strength for real intimacy. I couldn’t go out with him every day. And I wasn’t attractive.

The first time I learned he wasn’t being faithful took me by surprise, even if I expected it. A simple text message while he went to the bathroom.

“Can’t wait to see you tonight, baby.”

That’s what they texted him. That’s what I saw. And if I’m honest, I tried so hard to convince myself I had misread the situation. I tried to make myself believe it wasn’t real, that Sans still wanted me, and just me. But, everyday, I started to notice things that I hadn’t before. The way he never say “I love you” back, just letting out his normal, nonchalant hum. He stayed out longer and longer. He never held me back when we slept. Hell, even the way he kissed me changed. The spark was gone, the passion, the need. It had disappeared long before I even noticed.

I remember one specific moment when he came home, smelling of alcohol with a lusty, fulfilled look in his eyes I could have never caused. He called me by a different name. He rambled of these different men and women he had been with. All the different masters and mistresses.

“Fuck… Her body… So smooth and curvy… Unlike… Unlike yours..”  
“He was…so rough…and I loved the way he…he moaned my name…”

That’s what he said to me. And that’s what broke me. I began to distance myself from him and I could even see the depression, the darkness, setting back in.

One day, he didn’t come back at all. Not till the next morning. But I didn’t react when he walked through the door, just curled up further on the couch, my knee pulled up to my chest. He ignored the fact he had been gone. Maybe it didn’t even occur to him that’s why I was upset. “Sweetheart? Are you okay…? Why have you been so... distant?” I didn’t answer. Not with words at least. Tears trickled down my cheek slowly. They burned my eyes and flowed like a waterfall, despite my silence. Not even a whimper. He sat on the couch next to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me to his chest, his first act of affection in a while. I hate to admit it made me blush and cuddle against him. “N-... Nothing, baby… I’m just… Just lost in thought sometimes…” was all I could whisper out. He stroked my sides, humming softly. I looked up at him and gasped softly, seeing love in his eyelights once again. Without thinking, I leaned up and pressed my lips against his teeth. And I felt the spark. He caressed my cheek as he kissed back before pulling away, his eyelights scanning over my face as he whispered, “I love you… So so much, baby… And… I want you to talk to me whenever you’re feeling...depressed. I want to help.” 

After that day, he stayed with me more often. His kisses became more frequent. He held me closer, almost protectively. We went back to what we had used to be, and I couldn’t be happier.

But old habits die hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* What have you done, Sans...?


	3. Once a Whore, Always a Whore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez... This is starting to hit a little too close to home for me, it almost hurts to write it. Let's try and make this as depressing as possible! Again, sorry for the REALLY short chapters. Writing during your lunch break is a little difficult, what with the little amount of time I get. Once I switch jobs, the chapters should get MUCH longer!

It was maybe a week before he started up again, just as before. I noticed him keeping condoms in his wallet. Staying out late. Things like that. But, his biggest mistake was actually bringing a woman home. He was shit drunk, stumbling through the front door, his tongue shoved inside some slut with 90 percent of her body exposed through her fishnet body suit. I felt my stomach churn as I watched him wobble up the stairs with her, not even noticing me curled up on the couch. 

That night was long and, by far, the worst I’ve ever endured. I could hear them upstairs. The banging. The pounding. The creaks of the bed. And their moans. It got so bad to the point I had to leave. I slipped on my prosthetic, picked up my crutches and hopped the full hour to Papyrus’, Undyne’s and Alphy’s place.

“WHERE IS SANS?”  
“What happened, punk? How did you get here?”  
“O-oh no… Are you o-okay?”

They seemed so concerned. They wanted to help. But, to be honest, I was scared to let them. I was scared to let them know my relationship with Sans wasn’t perfect. So, I lied. “Oh, everything’s fine. Just got bored at home and Sans was sleeping. Didn’t wanna bother him just cuz I wanted to see some friends!” I even through in a fake little chuckle in hopes of making it more believable. And, surprisingly, they bought it.

I spent that night with them, pretending to watch some overly sexualized anime. Inside, my thoughts were eating me alive, causing me to writhe uncomfortably in my seat. I got a few worried glances, but I claimed it was cramps. The pain inside of me was something I had never felt before, to the point it was almost physical. By the time everyone had fallen asleep, cuddled up on the couch, I had made my way to the bathroom. I sat down and ripped off my prosthetic, already noticing the little blisters that would soon fully develope into puss filled aches. But, surprisingly, that didn’t hurt me as much as Sans already had. I began to rock slowly back and forth on the floor, my one knee pulled up to my chest as I started to silently sob into it. It wasn’t even thirty minutes later before I began to rummage through their belongings, looking for something, anything, that could pierce my skin.

“I’ll show him…”  
“I’ll make him regret cheating…”  
“I’ll make him see what he’s done to me.”

That’s what I thought. And that’s what I was going to do.


	4. Struggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, in the short amount of time I've had this up and with as short as the chapters are, I've gotten more attention than I expected...

It may have taken me only five minutes to find a razor blade that would do perfectly. I found a small grin spread across my face. Deep down, I knew what I was doing was wrong. I was going to make Sans pity me. I was going to make him want to take care of me, like he used to. Slowly, I pressed the blade against my thigh, one of the least noticeable places, and began to drag it up my leg. The pain, once again, was nothing to what I was feeling on the inside. I felt a little bit out joy, watching the blood seep from my leg, excitement, even. I continued up my leg, stroke after stroke, from my knee to my inner thigh. I was a bloody mess, pun intended. And it was that moment I felt a strange hatred in my chest. Was it because of the pun I had made in my mind? Or was it because who the pun reminded me of?

By the time morning had come, I had cleaned up the blood that covered my leg and soaked into their hardwood floor. All that was left of my events the night before were a dull razor, the slightly red tinted flooring, and the many red cuts that lines up my thighs. I didn’t have much of an option when it came to bandaging them, so I made do with toilet paper. I slipped my sweats back up my legs, attached my prosthetic, and walked out of the bathroom, supporting myself on my one crutch. “Hey, guys. I’m gonna go ahead and head home. Sans is gonna wanna know where I’ve been!” I said to them, followed by a short giggle. Undyne raised her head, rubbing her temples, “Huh…? It’s six in the morning… Stay for breakfast…” “I’d love to! But maybe another time!” And before they could say anything else, I left the house.

The walk home was horrible; the blisters on my leg worsened and the irritation it caused left a dull throb. The cuts opened up a bit, bleeding through the toilet paper and red splotches were starting to show up on my pants. I mentally cursed myself as I continued to walk, to the best of my ability. 

Slowly and silently, I pushed open the door, trying to make my footfalls as quiet as possible. I hobbled to my own bathroom, stepping inside and ripping my pants off, along the thin paper that lined my thighs. The cuts were full of little shreds of toilet paper that I would later have to fish out with tweezers, but now was not the time. I threw the pants away and grabbed a new pair, setting them aside as I rewrapped my cuts in gauze. It stung, but I held back ever little whine. 

By the time I was finished, my exhaustion began to set in. I knew my body was weak, but I kept pushing. I pushed until I was falling apart. Mentally and physically, I was weak, and everyone knew that. But I still wanted to go, push my limits, just to...just to mentally torture my boyfriend… It’s wrong of me, but so is cheating, even if I can’t give him all he wants in a relationship. At the very least, he could’ve broken it off with me… Or at least tried to be more secretive about his little affairs. 

Hours passed and I soon fell asleep on the couch, cuddled up in a little ball, just myself. But I was awaked by the stop patter of feet and little whispers.

“Shh… She’s sleeping… Hurry, out the door…”  
“Okay, okay… I’ll see you next week, sweetie”  
“Alright, baby... “

That’s what they said. That’s what they planned. But I wasn’t going to let that happen...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... Sad times are coming.

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh... Did ya like it? I didn't really look over it or proofread XD


End file.
